Smells Like Teen Spirit

Smells Like Teen Spirit -Intro

Paul lifted his head slowly to the music. It was music he finally recognized, other than the other slutty, rubbish tunes. "Wrecking Ball"? Trash. "Blurred Lines?" No, thank you! "Anaconda"? What the actual f--

You get it.

Paul could tell what the sound was. A Buddy Holly song, written about 50 years ago. Yeah, Maggie Mae! And the singer was actually pretty good for once, other than those horny boys and slutty girls..

Paul decided to walk to the stage. he rose onto his feet, and he wandered over to the stage. It was quite crowded, but he shimmied his way through.

He saw a boy on the stage, who looked around his age. The boy also dressed the same way Paul did; those loose shirts with leather jackets and pants, like in the 50s; the generation Paul adored. Paul was pleased to have someone like him.. but did the crowd?

Paul glanced around the crowd. Most of the sluts and "hornets" had started up a chat, completely ignoring the boy on the stage with his guitar. There were little kids jumping around to the tune, but it probably wasn't the right audience for the boy on the stage.

Paul suddenly felt a tap on his back. He jumped, and he faced the person behind him. It was his buddy, Ivan.

"Hey Paul! I noticed you were staring at the boy right there! Why; you in loovvee?"

Paul grew a scowl on his face. "You git..! You know I'm straight! It's just that he's playing good music for once." He hissed.

"Oh Paul, you crack me up.. But nah, I was joking, bro. That dude on the stage is my friend. I figured he could meet you here after he performs.. What do you say?" Ivan bargained while picking at his fingernails.

Paul nodded slightly. "Sure, I guess."

Ivan nodded back at him.

**LATER**

"John, this is Paul! Paul, John."

"Hi, how are you.." Paul hummed.

"Good." John said back.

There was a slight pause.

John looked at Paul with a little smirk. He nodded. "So, you wanna be in the band, huh?"

"Yeah.." Paul replied lightly.

"Hm.. Beer?" John asked as he turned around, and he opened the cooler. The cold wind brushed against his sweaty face.

"Tea?" Paul asked innocently.

John chuckled loudly. "You really are a shy boy! Ah, well, more for me!" John teased as he pulled out a slick bottle of booze.

John faced Paul once more. He stared at Paul, studying his face and eyes.

"You sure you ain't a liar of your music taste to get in my band?" John said slyly. "It's what the other idiots did."

"I promise, Lennon." Paul said, trying to act tougher than he looked

John smirked, and he was silent for a while.

"... Welcome to the Quarrymen, McCartney."